Yes! He's the god of acting

This robe, indeed, belongs to Henry.

Eight years ago, a small and tattered troupe arrived in District 3 and set up a modest stage in the wilderness to perform two plays. Henry, only seven years old at the time, became immediately captivated by the art form.

In this world, the culture of theater is scarcely known. That year, the troupe had spent two whole days setting up the stage, yet only five people attended. Among them were William and Henry, who were casually passing by and drawn in by the impromptu performance; a traveling peddler, who was dragged in to complete the audience; a beggar, who came to ask for food; and one true theater enthusiast, a teacher from District 2 who had heard about the performance.

Out of the five, only Henry and the teacher listened attentively to the entire play. William had fallen asleep halfway through; the peddler rushed off after the opening, and the beggar interrupted the performance at intermission, demanding food before being kicked off the stage by an actor playing a martial artist.

But William noticed something: in Henry's eyes, there was a light—a spark he had never seen before.

From that day on, Henry began to self-teach theater. He somehow found two books and practiced singing every morning, copying the scripts, and even learned to sew to make costumes. The very robe William wore now was one Henry had made by hand, with a tiny blue flower sewn onto the corner, a remnant of his work.

"Here, I'm giving it back to you."

Having finished washing the robe, William casually handed it to Henry, then glanced at his reflection in the flowing water. His wounds and bloodstains had nearly vanished.

The two of them carefully walked down the narrow path, approaching the outskirts of Frost Street, eyes fixed on their home.

Ahead, the once broken door of their house was now surrounded by a complete police blockade. Several law enforcers in black and red uniforms moved around, and two bodies, covered by white cloths, lay on stretchers near the entrance.

"What's the situation?"

"No hope," one of the enforcers said with a sigh, looking at the white cloth. "These two were sent by Beker to track the couple living here. They must have found something amiss, barged in, and were killed while fighting the disaster."

"And the couple? Are they dead too?"

"…No."

The enforcer's gaze turned to the door, where a man and woman were being helped out by other officers. Both had empty, glazed eyes, pale faces, trembling like lost souls.

"They survived."

"Aren't they the ones who were attacked first by the disaster? How did they survive?"

"We believe that while they were the first to be attacked, they didn't resist. The two enforcers shot their guns, provoking the disaster, which then killed them."

"You mean, the disaster was playing with them?"

"That seems to be the case."

"Any other leads?"

"Not much… The disaster's power is strange. It tore apart most of the house, leaving no valuable information. We can't even tell from which direction it entered."

"Frost Street is so large. It just happened to target this house. Was it a coincidence?"

"It's hard to say. Frost Street is on the outskirts of District 3, and behind it is the mountain range. Further back, there's the burial ground from the gray realm intersection, then District 2. If the disaster crawled out of the gray realm, massacred District 2, fled into the mountains, and then came to Frost Street, that path is quite plausible."

"Was the crime scene in District 2 also near the mountains?"

"Yes, these locations aren't far apart and align in a straight line." The enforcer nodded slightly.

Before the two could continue, a sharp, high-pitched scream suddenly rang out from nearby.

"Disaster!! Disaster!!"

Lily broke free from the enforcers around her, as though she had seen something truly horrifying. Staring at them with wide, terrified eyes, she began to retreat, shouting, "You won't get me!! You won't get me!!"

As she backed away, she collided with the officers who were supporting Vito, causing him to freeze in terror. His pupils shrank instantly, and he curled up into a ball, clutching his head with his hands, muttering nonsensical words under his breath, his eyes full of fear.

The enforcers exchanged glances, a hint of exasperation crossing their faces. They weren't shocked. With practiced ease, they bound Lily and Vito with ropes, stuffing white cloths in their mouths to prevent disturbance. Then, they moved toward the headquarters of District 3.

Seeing this, William let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Dr. David had once said that about 80% of survivors from gray realm intersections or disaster attacks would suffer from severe mental breakdowns, and most would never recover. Now, it seemed Lily and Vito were no exception.

For William, this was a stroke of luck. There were only four people who had witnessed his transformation into a disaster, and two of the enforcers had already been killed by the "audience." If Lily and Vito revealed everything, he would be hunted down immediately.

Fortunately, both Lily and Vito had lost their sanity. His true identity remained safe. He could still walk through the streets as William.

Of course, that was only if the enforcers didn't trace him.

"It's still not safe… I need to think of a way to completely block their investigation…" William didn't like taking risks, nor did he like having his fate in the hands of others. His mind raced, trying to find the safest course of action.

Just then, a figure suddenly shot past him!

"Dad! Mom!"

Henry cried out, sprinting toward the two figures being carried away. His face, pale with exhaustion, was filled with panic.

Henry didn't know what had happened. He was just a fifteen-year-old boy. Seeing his parents being pulled from the wreckage felt like the sky had fallen.

William's gaze sharpened. Instinctively, he reached out to stop Henry, but after a brief hesitation, he followed quickly, calling out, "Dad, Mom!"

Hearing their calls, the enforcers turned around. The two boys were rushing toward them, and one of the enforcers began flipping through some documents.

"This couple has two children—one eighteen, the other fifteen."

"We didn't find any bodies inside the house. I was about to send people to search when they showed up…"

"Poor kids."

The enforcers whispered among themselves.

Henry rushed up to Lily, about to say something, when Lily's pupils dilated in shock. Without knowing how, she spat out the white cloth and screamed at the top of her lungs: "Disaster!! You're a disaster too!! You want to kill me too?!"

Henry froze in place.